Forcing Normalcy
by mwuh-awesome
Summary: "Nii-san? What are you going here?" "Sulking," came Ed's dejected reply, "damn Mustang." When Ed gets suspended he's forced to spend a month at the local school… which so happens to be Al's.
1. Chapter 1: What did you do?

**Summary**: "Nii-san? What are you going here?" "Sulking," came Ed's dejected reply, "damn Mustang." When Ed gets suspended he's forced to spend a month at the local school… which so happens to be Al's. Al loves his brother, he honestly does, but Gate, could he be a handful.

**Author's Notes:** I think this was born by my fascination with our little Aru. When they get their bodies back (SPOILER: I chose to block my ears and hum every time Ed's loss of alchemy comes up. In my head it never happened) I can totally see Al going back to school and becoming something normal like a doctor or teacher (though I read someone on here the idea that Al becomes an ambassador for Amestris and I adore that idea as well) but I can't see Ed doing that. I hate the life he's given at the end of the series. It doesn't suit him at all. So, with my fascination with Al the idea of his friends came to mind. Come on, Al's a little social butterfly so he would have a bunch of friends… a bunch of normal friends. Then came the idea 'how would Al's friends see Ed?' Keeping in mind that these kids would be just like you or me. Then a million different situations came to mind that I might write in a collection of oneshots one day, I dunno. Though Al's friends probably aren't even going to be in this at all, so, yeah…

I don't mind the highschool cliché AU fanfictions every fandom has (about a million of them) but it does bug me a little that the entire plot is thrown outta whack. The characters kind of lose their special something… idk, it just annoys me. So this is not gunna be anything like that, 'kay?

Ok… I'm rambling. Shutting up on this subject.

NO ELRICEST! That freaks me out a little.

* * *

Al walked across campus before school, chatting avidly to three of his friends. Tuesdays were always his favourite day; he had science on Tuesdays. His brother seemed in a good mood when he left this morning as well. That meant he was least likely to bash someone's brains in. Always a plus. All in all, Al was feeling very positive.

As his friends talked, a flash of gold caught his eye… a very familiar flash of gold. But he couldn't be here, could he? Al hoped not. He really did love him, but gate could he be a hand full.

"Al?" one of his friends asked, concern lacing his tone. "What's wrong?"

Looking away from where he had seen the flash, Al realised he had been staring. Blushing slightly, he said, "Nothing… um, actually, you guys go ahead." He offered them a reassuring smile, "I just want to check something out. You guys go on ahead."

Leaving his friends behind, Al jogged away from the path and up to garden. He pushed past the large, overgrown bushes, towards where he knew a bench was located and where he had seen that flash of gold.

Finally breaking through he groaned at the sight in front of him.

"Gate… seriously? Brother, don't you have work?" he asked tiredly, "What are you doing here?"

Sprawled out on the garden bench in front of him, laid his brother. He was scowling at the branches far above his head, his arms crossed hotly, wearing… was that a school uniform?

"Sulking," came the dejected reply, "Damn Mustang."

Al sighed and sat down cross-legged on the grass. He had a feeling this would take a while.

"Come on then," he said, "Out with it."

"Out with what," asked Ed, turning his head to look at him.

"What you did."

"What? Ed cried, sitting up so to better glare at his younger brother, "Why do you always assume I did something?"

"Because you usually _do_ do something," Al said, unfazed at his brothers expression.

"I do not!"

"Oh? So it _wasn't_ your fault this time?"

There was a pause. Ed looked away, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head and avoiding Al's gaze.

Al sighed for the second time that day. "What did you blow up?"

"…it wasn't even an important building," Ed promised, "honestly, Al, it wasn't!"

"Then why are you here?"

Ed paused for a moment, seemingly thinking it over. "Mustang hates me," he said simply.

"Brother," Al said patiently, "which building?"

"It wasn-"

"Brother," he repeated firmly, "which building?"

Ed murmured something indistinguishable under his breath, still avoiding Al's gaze.

"Brother," he repeated once again, testily, "_which building_?"

"… Investigations," he said, before hurriedly adding, "but it wasn't that big of a deal! I wouldn't have even gotten in trouble but the Fuhrer… was kind of in the building, and, um… yeah," he finished lamely, looking down at his open palms.

Al took in a deep, shocking breath, his eyes going wide. "The _Fuhrer_?!" he exclaimed, his voice much higher than usual in his panic, "Oh my god! You _killed_ the _Fuhrer_!"

"No!" Ed jumped up from his seat, standing above Al and waving his hands hysterically in front of him, "Gates, no! _No_!"

Al breathed a sigh of relief.

"…But he is, um…. Kind of in…" Ed winced, "the hospital."

Al took a calming breath to prevent him from having the same reaction as before. In these kinds of situations it was hard to remember which of them exactly was the eldest. If anything, Al felt more like a parent than a younger brother.

"Explain," he said, feeling a lot, strangely, like Winry. "Now."

"Well, it's a long story… but basically it involved some cracks about my height, Mustang, Hughes, a box of matches, a puppy and a bottle of tequila-"

"_What_-"

"-doesn't matter! All that matters is that it was taken too far, the Fuhrer's in hospital and Mustang hates me."

"You haven't even told me why you're here!" Al said, standing to join his brother, "You're at my _school_."

"I told you," Ed said, "Mustang hates me so to punish me for… um, you know, taking it too far, he's forced me here."

"Why?" Al asked in disbelief.

"Erm, he said something along the lines of 'your too immature. Therefore, you should go back to school.' I wasn't really paying attention… he tends to dribble a bit, you know? The Higher Command got pissed and basically let Mustang have free-reign for my punishment. So here I am. That's basically it."

"How long for?"

"A month," Ed whined, re-crossing his hands, "A whole freaking _month_."

Al couldn't find a reply to that so he simply nodded to his brother, marvelling at what an odd sight it was to see Ed in uniform; a _school_ uniform. He was used to seeing him in the military uniform on occasion, though, so the fact that it was a uniform wasn't too weird (Now that Ed was a Colonel, he had to wear it. Not every day, mind you, Ed was still Ed and still liked pissing those of higher rank and he still liked to break rules.) but a school uniform… that was something different altogether. Al couldn't quite say it made him look normal; Ed would never look normal, no matter what he wore. He wasn't if it was because of his golden hair and eyes (seriously? Who had golden eyes?) or if it was because of Ed's - not that Al'd ever want to say it aloud - height. In the military uniform he stood out because he was so small and so young, but in this uniform it seemed the opposite.

Compared to other students Ed definitely wasn't tall and he didn't look any older and yet… he did. Ed had been through so much; it had changed him. The way he talked, the look in his eyes, heck, the way he_ stood_. It was different; it was older. His relationship with Mustang's men (their friendship had been growing over the years) made more sense. If anything, Ed was more their age than his - in everything but appearance. Al could tell Ed was going to stand out if he was to stay at the school but he wasn't worried; his big brother could take care of himself.

Ed wore the same baggy grey trousers as Al, the same black shoes, the same-buttoned white long-sleeve shirt (un-tucked, Al noticed, and he lacked the maroon woollen jumper Al liked to wear over the top) and the same checked maroon tie (this was hanging loosely around his neck, and the first button of his shirt was undone. This, too, was different from Al's). His hair was pulled back in the same plait as always, having gotten over that ponytail stage he had gone through, claiming it made him look too much like Their Old Man (Ed's nickname for their father, not Al's).

Al sighed once more, and turned to walk away.

"Hey!" called Ed in alarm, "Where're you going? Don't leave me here alone!"

Al could detect a hint of nervous panic in his brother's voice. Throw a serial killer at Ed any day of the week, Al thought, somewhat amused, but he wouldn't be able to handle a class full of kids his own age.

Al continued walking. Well, climbing (dragging himself through) once he got to the large shrubbery that blocked his way.

"Al!" Ed's voice was getting slightly hysterical now.

Once out the other side of the bushes Al smiled and called, "Come on, then, Nii-san. Homeroom starts soon!"

There was a flash of blue light and a direct path was cleared through the bush. Ed smiled smugly to Al for taking the smart way out as stepped up to the younger Elric's side, happy at not being left behind. Another flash of lightening-like light and the bush was there was more, looking as though it had never been touched. (AN: just to clarify with the whole Equivalent Exchange thing, Ed didn't make the bush 'disappear', he pushed it to the side.)

"Homeroom's this way," Al said, setting down the path towards the Northern end of the school. "All siblings are in the same homeroom, so you'll be in mine."

Ed nodded absentmindedly, looking around at the giant school in wonder.

"This… is going to be interesting," Ed said to Al as they continued on.

"Yeah," Al agreed, "It's definitely going to be… interesting."


	2. Chapter 2: Homeroom

I watched the mentalist whilst watching this. Gate, I _love_ Jane. *ahem* Just thought I'd share that.

Reviews make me happy 3

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Ed's new homeroom teacher smiled sweetly at him, trying to be as reassuring as she could manage "What's your name, honey?" she asked, looking between him and Al, "Is he your little brother, Alphonse?"

Underneath the table Al gripped his arm tightly, his nails digging in painfully. He shot Ed a silent warning before returning their teacher's smile, "Older brother, ma'am. I'm sixteen and he's seventeen."

If she was surprised she did a good job not showing. Maybe she had dealt with enough children to not insult them, maybe she generally thought Ed was seventeen, or maybe she could sense the dark aurora radiating off him or the dark evil glare he was shooting at her. Al sensed it was the last one as he could literally see her swallowing thickly under his brothers gave before smiling once more.

"Of course," she said, "I'm sorry, my eyesight must be going. Old age is horrible, isn't it?"

Ed and Al shared a glance. The woman couldn't be older than 30, 35 at most.

"Anyhow," she continued, "What is your name?"

"Edward," he said, leaning back in his chair and surveying the teacher, "but call me Ed."

"Edward," she leaned down so that she was eyelevel to Ed, ignoring his nickname, and said in what she thought to be calmingly manner, "hello Edward, my name is Miss Hill."

"Ed," he said forcefully.

"I prefer Edward," she said.

"Ed."

"I'm sure it doesn't matte-"

"Ed," his gaze hardened, "or Mr. Elric, if you don't mind."

"Ed it is then," Al couldn't quite be sure but he thought his teacher's smile became rather forced, "Do you want your timetable?"

Ed shrugged, looking rather nonchalant.

Miss Hill disappeared towards her desk for a moment before reappearing, paper in hand. Ed took it from her and laid it facedown on the desk, without even glancing at it.

Miss Hill breathed in deeply (Al was beginning to recognize it as the expression people tended to wear whenever they were dealing with Ed. He knew; he wore it enough, especially within the last few hours) and smiled that damn smile again, "So, Edward-"

"Ed-"

"How are you enjoying school?" she finished before he could begin again.

"I'm not."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not enjoying school."

Miss Hill seemed rather taken back by that, "Well… if there's anything I can do to make your transfer easier."

"Not unless you have a license to kill."

If she wasn't surprised before, she certainly was now, "I… um, Pardon?"

"I hate my boss, he hates me," Ed sighed. "Look, I screwed up. I'll admit it."

"That's a fir-" there was a loud _thud _as Ed kicked Al from underneath the table. "Ow!"

"And to punish me," Ed said, continuing as if Al hadn't even opened his mouth, "I was sent here."

"Your boss?"

"State Alchemist," Al told her, rubbing his shin, "he's on suspension for a month and his boss sent him here for the time being."

"Huh?" Miss Hill completely lost her entire teacher persona, staring wide-eyed at Ed, "No… you can't be."

"Edward Elric," Ed supplied, "Fullmetal Alchemist. And yes, yes I can be."

"No…"

"_Yes_," he stressed, "I am."

"B-but…"

"Have been since I was twelve."

"But a _state alchemist…" _her voice was low and filled with shocked denial, "State alchemists are… _human weapons._ There killing machines…"

Ed nodded, "I know."

"But-"

"Look lady," Ed said, getting impatient, "I'm a state alchemist. End of story."

Ed smirked (reminding Al a hell of a lot like Roy Mustang… not that he would ever tell Ed that) at Al as Miss Hill turned and walked away towards her desk with the same blank expression smeared over her face, still murmuring under breathe. ("No, no… But… No.")

"I love when they have that reaction," Ed admitted, "its just… _fascinating."_

"You evil," Al said.

"You've known me my whole life, and your only just coming to terms with that?"

"Oh, I've known for long time but every now and then I tend to… _forget_. So then when you pull something like that," Al pointed towards Miss Hill. The woman was sitting at her desk, staring at her hands as though she was seeing them for the first time, "it kind of, you know, smacks me in the face."

Ed paused, his smirk disappearing off his face before sighing, "Crap. Today is going to _suck."_

Al picked up his timetable, "At least you have alchemy today."

Ed snatched up his timetable in the blink of an eye, "Yes! Aweso- Wait… _basic_ alchemy?"

Al winced, "Um… yeah."

"Art?"

"…Yeah."

"English? Like the reports I do for Mustang?"

Al nodded.

"And… Oh, _Gate!_" he looked up at Al in horror, "_Religion?"_

Al scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "Yep," he laughed nervously, "Its compulsory… I just zone out during it."

"That's it!" Ed scrunched up the paper in his hands, "I'm going to _kill _Mustang when I get out of here!"


	3. Chapter 3: Period One

Sorry, guys! This is so late, and it's so short! The next chapter will be coming very soon! I wanted to make this a lot longer, but I couldn't work out a way to connect the two chapters and still make the day flow! _Ugh_! Too many ideas!

* * *

"Have fun, brother!" Al wished cheerily, a warm smile on his face as he left his elder sibling at the door to his classroom (the silent undertone of "Please behave!" was blatantly ignored). With a departing wave, he turned to head for his own class.

Sighing heavily, Ed shifted his borrowed exercise book in his arms and opened the door to find the rest of his classmates already seated. The teacher, an old Ishvalan woman, frowned and crossed her arms disapprovingly. "You must be the new student the principal was telling me about."

Unnerved by her uncalled-for callous attitude and the seemingly-unending pairs of eyes staring at him, Ed muttered in reply, "I—uh—yes, ma'am…"

Glancing out at the sea of near-adults watching him like hungry vultures, Ed inwardly grimaced. If there were one thing he did not understand, it was teenagers. He himself had been robbed of the opportunity to be one, after all, and so age and physique were truly the only factors linking him to the students in this—_his_—class.

"Late," the women tsked, "but never mind. Come up here." He did so with carefully measured movements, golden gaze on his unsettlingly attentive classmates. "Now, go ahead and tell the class about yourself."

"My name's Edward, but call me Ed," he said. Peering back up at the teacher, he had to fight to keep the grimace off his face. "May I sit down now?"

"What's your _last_ name?" she inquired impatiently.

"Elric."

"Okay, and where are you fr—? Wait! _Elric_? As in, _the _Edward Elric?" Her expression matched the brothers' homeroom teacher's when she'd made the connection.

Ed mentally steeled himself. Adoring civilians were familiar territory, but a teacher and teenage classmates? Well, here goes nothing!

"Yep!" he confirmed confidently. "That's right!"

A collective murmur spread through the class. Edward Elric, Alchemist for the People, was practically a household name by now!

Ed was expecting his teacher to praise him, like many adults before her had, but instead she pursed her lips and asked tersely, "The _Fullmetal_ Alchemist?"

The boy nodded, gaining more whispers.

"Do you remember," she said, practically growling, "Robert Mitchell?"

Ed felt himself pale. Of _course_ he did… How could he not? Mitchell's face, twisted with fear as the light left his eyes, kept Ed awake at night.

When he answered at last, it was so close to silent he didn't even realize he'd spoken.

"He was my brother," the Ishvalan condemned.

Again, the many eyes ate into him. But they didn't know the truth. How could they? _Gate_, Ed hated himself right now! He was at _Al's _school_, _damn it, and the first thing he did was find out he killed one of his teacher's brothers?

"_Take _your_ seat_, Elric!" she hissed.

He inclined his head again, this time mechanically, and very nearly sprinted to the vacant desk at the back of the room.

This was going to be one _long_ hour…


	4. Chapter 4: Regrets

As promised, a much longer chapter than my last one. That one was kind of sad, sorry guys. A bit of angst for what was supposed to be a funny fic. Oh well, I love angst. Sorry, Ed, you're just too fun to torture.

Don't forget to give me feedback; tell me what you're liking and what you're not. I'll try and change it/keep writing it. Also if you have any ideas, don't be afraid to tell me. I don't bite!

* * *

If Ed could wish for one thing (besides the loved ones he's lost or world peace), he would wish for his childhood back. A time when he didn't have any responsibilities; when the words 'blood,' 'war,' and 'death' were hollow and meaningless; and when Ed could crawl into a dark, secluded place and cry.

But that was just it. He_ couldn't_ wish for anything, therefore he _didn't_ have his childhood back. He _did_ have responsibilities; the words 'blood,' 'death,' and 'war' now held more anguish and had more understanding than he'd ever thought possible; and Ed _couldn't _crawl into a dark, secluded place and cry. No matter how much or how diligently he wished.

All the same, futile though it might be, right now that was all Ed could think to do. Wish.

Because the woman at the front of the room was one of the indirect, unintended victims of the Fullmetal Alchemist. Her equivalent of Alphonse, _her_ brother (a single set of dead eyes among the hundreds that decorated his nightmares each night), was dead because of _Ed!_ And he had the _audacity_ to come to her workplace and touch her things with hands stained a sickening and all too familiar Brother's-Blood red.

He had never hated himself mo—

A flash of soul-filled red eyes. The echo of empty armor against automail knuckles. The bloody pile of flesh and bone, the abomination that had once been their moth—

Ed bowed his head and let his bangs hang to conceal his somber expression. No. He had hated himself far more. But if anything, this heart-wrenching reminder only reinforced his desire to hide and let the tears flow.

Around him, the temperature in the room had plunged. The students, who still had no clue about the connection between their teacher and the new student, could practically see the tension, pain, and hate that dripped off both of them. The silent minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly, and each teen seemed to avoid the gaze of the next.

Mrs. Mitchell (she had Robert's red eyes…and that tanned skin that Ed had pierced with his sharp automail blade—he had to remind himself to_ breathe_) didn't take long to start her revenge. It elevated from frozen stares and showing blatant disgust to deliberately skipping him whenever she looked the class over and unconsciously tightening her grip on her pen when she just happened to catch sight of him.

But it was toward the end of the period that things got a little ridiculous.

She was halfway through the geometry review lesson when she turned to ask the class a more advanced extra credit question. Ed was surprised at this, but in seeing the rest of the class stumped, he thought he might attempt to ease their twin burden academically.

"Central!" he answered, but Mrs. Mitchell ignored him. Ed frowned deeply and exhaled roughly through his nose. It was totally understandable that she hated his guts, but _really_? Wasn't she a bit too _old_ to be pulling the silent treatment?

"Doesn't_ anybody_ know the answer?" Mrs. Mitchell asked.

"Central!" he bid again.

"_Nobody_ knows?" she went on.

Ed growled quietly. One final time. "_Central!"_

"_Really,_ class? We've been doing geometry for _three weeks_, and _nobody _can answer the question?"

As a last resort, he tried raising his hand. That's what Al said they did at school, right?

Mrs. Mitchell sighed exaggeratedly. "Well, if it's going to be like that, I suppose I'll just have to pick someone." She pointed at a girl in the front row. "You. What's the answer?"

"Um…" a backward glance at Ed, "…Central?"

The instructor beamed. "_Correct!"_

The students, for the millionth time, turned to see a gob-smacked Ed. This boy was a complete enigma. He was new, something utterly alien to them; it was obvious he was outrageously intelligent; and this grudge match he and Mrs. Mitchell had going only made him all the more fascinating! The two questions they wanted answered, though, were these: what could he possibly have done that would warrant this abuse, and what did her brother have to do with it?

A sudden jarring bell signaled the end of the period, and everyone rose to file out of the room in groups. Ed, however, hands balled into fists, opted to stay behind. The tension surrounding him was almost palpable, and the others, while hoping desperately to approach the famous Edward Elric and learn more about him, were sure to steer clear for the time being.

Mrs. Mitchell, realizing his motives, threw her belongings in her bag and hurried for the door.

"_Wait_!" her student ordered firmly. She froze, her hand hovering over the knob. "I'm sorry…" he whispered difficultly, head bowed. "I know it…doesn't bring him back…but for what it's worth…I _am _sorry."

Mrs. Mitchell didn't do anything for several moments, but when she did, it was of explosive intensity. "_Sorry _won't bring him back!" she snapped. "You're dogs! All of you!"

Throwing open her door, she stepped out into the hallway only to swear she heard him murmur softly, "I know." Her ferocious expression merely amplified at this, and she virtually flew down the corridor to avoid hearing anything more.

Back in her room, Ed fought to hold back a sob, causing his breath to catch in his throat. Mrs. Mitchell was right. Of _course_ she was.

Following her lead out the classroom door, he began making his way to his next class when he went stock-still in his tracks. Two boys, roughly his same age, had thrown some ice-cold liquid all over him as they'd passed. His blood felt like it had frozen in his veins, and it only took him about two seconds to put the pieces together.

"Welcome to school, loser!" One of them laughed obnoxiously. "Don't'cha know? We're the 'Welcoming Committee!'"

In light of all the things he'd been through that day, it wasn't surprising when Ed's fist practically moved on its own. Still, it might've occurred to him before his damn-good right hook slammed into the taller boy's face that fighting on his first day of military-suspension was a bad idea.


	5. Chapter 5: You're in trouble

AN: I changed the genre of the story from humour and family to humour and angst. I've had a few requests for this story to take on a real edge and I've taken that, along with the other suggestions (thankyou, by the way. They helped me put a bit of direction into this story) into consideration.

I mean, at the moment, the story is just whatever I currently feel like writing. Very messy.

So I have some questions for you guys and I would love some responses/answers back so that I can take everyone's opinions into consideration.

**Should this have a pairing? (besides brotherly!Elrics)**

**What should Ed's relationship be to Mustang's gang be?**

**What do you want some of the other students to be/their reaction to Ed?**

**Should/would you mind if this fic took on a serious edge?**

**How do you feel about the angst and humour in this story?**

*coughcough* Thanks. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

Oh! And before I forget, you remember that wet stuff Ed got thrown on him in the last chapter? Totally stole the idea from Glee. Basically, I've made slushying a kind of cruel tradition for all new students at Al's school. Once a new student rocks up, the gossip circulates around the school and some kids grab some slushies and 'welcome' the poor bastard. And there were only two bullies in the last chapter but in this one there is twelve that they fight. This is because when Ed landed that punch, a group of seniors saw what was going on and jumped in to defend their friends. Safe to say, the bullies didn't stand a chance.

* * *

Last time

_Two boys, roughly his same age, had thrown some ice-cold liquid all over him as they'd passed. His blood felt like it had frozen in his veins, and it only took him about two seconds to put the pieces together._

_"Welcome to school, loser!" One of them laughed obnoxiously. "Don't'cha know? We're the 'Welcoming Committee!'"_

_In light of all the things he'd been through that day, it wasn't surprising when Ed's fist practically moved on its own. Still, it might've occurred to him before his damn-good right hook slammed into the taller boy's face that fighting on his first day of military-suspension was a bad idea._

* * *

When Al had arrived at school that day to be faced with the sight of his big brother, dressed to the nines in an identical maroon uniform, a grimace marring his face as he complained loudly about Jackass bosses and unfair punishments, his first thought had not been a friendly one.

_Oh god, _Al had thought as the bottom of his stomach dropped out, _what had the idiot done _this _time?_

Ed was a handful, that much had been established. He was bossy, arrogant, loud-mouthed, short tempered and rebellious. Some mornings, all Al wanted to do was pull the blankets up above his head and ignore his older brother and all of the troubles that followed him around.

But then, half an hour later, when Al wouldn't emerge from his cocoon of pillows and Ed began to worry (panic) Al would remember. Dropping whatever he was holding, Ed would rush into the room, shake Al's shoulder and ask in that frantic heart-breaking voice what was wrong. And Al would remember. Gate, how had he forgotten?

Ed's rough exterior was only skin deep but the real Edward (the one that broke down in the rain when a little girl died, the one that transmuted flowers for their mother, the one that smiled that blinding smile and held him when the nightmares got too bad. The one that held the title of Hero of the People and, more importantly, older brother) was who he was, was the very essence of who Edward Elric was.

Al loved Ed, rough exterior and all (yes, even those days that made him want to smack his brother over the head). He was his _big brother, _he was_ Ed, _and he was all Al had left – although that title had become less true as time wore on and more people came into their life, Al would never stop referring to Ed as such. They weren't brothers. They were a team. And no one (_no one) _could get away with harming either of them without facing the other's fists.

So when Al had walked by Ed's classroom to collect the idiot and direct him to his next class only to see a group of about ten seniors jumping into a fight and tackling his brother to the ground, his reaction had been completely instinctual.

And then, an hour later, when he was seated before his Headmaster (Mr Waters) and his disapproving stare the words 'he's my brother' seemed to be a perfect explanation as to why he had participated in a fight. In Al's head, the words completely justified what he had done. His principle seemed to disagree.

"That was no fight," Mr. Waters hissed, "That was a massacre. That group is in the _hospital, _Mr. Alphonse. One of them nearly _died._ Are you happy with yourself? I thought you were one of our top students! Responsible, intelligent and mature, you were the model student and now you pull a stunt like this! I am so _disappointed _in you!"

"I know. I'm sorry, sir," Al said softly, his eyes downcast.

"Hey!" Ed shouted, jumping to his brother's defense, "Leave Al out of this! This was _my _screw-up!"

"Yes, I am not denying that this all originated from you, Mr…" Mr Waters glanced down at his papers, "Edward, but your brother still has to take some credibility. He joined the fight therefore he is also held responsible."

"It did not originate from my brother, sir," This time, Al was the one to jump to the other Elric's defense, "The other boys started it!"

"Oh, really? Do explain."

"They _slushied _him, sir."

"They slushy all of the new students, Alphonse, and yet not one report of violence has ever been against filed against them before."

"But-"

"No. No excuses. Mr Edward started a fight ther-"

"Brother doesn't understand," Al felt as though he was begging, trying desperately to plead with his principle to just _try _and understand the million piece puzzle that somehow fit together to make Ed. "Please, sir, he comes from the military! These kinds of things are second nature to him. If someone slushied a fellow military officer they'd be… they'd be…"

"Beaten up? Crucified? Fed to the lions?" Ed supplied.

"Y-Yeah," Al shot Ed a half grateful, half bewildered look, "so you really can't blame him-"

"Oh, can't I?" Mr. Waters narrowed his eyes and straightened his stance. Alphonse may have been one of his best students, but collectively, the Elrics were beginning to grind on his nerves, "_Watch me."_

* * *

"Explain to me again how you managed to get given a black eye by a _highschooler."_

"Oh, shut up, bastard," Ed growled, ripping another piece off of his burger with his teeth, "There was about twelve of them."

"Well, you don't say!" Roy mocked, "_Twelve? _That must have been hard. How old were they? Thirteen? Gate, are you alright?"

"Shut up, Jerk."

"So what happened? Did they call you short? Honestly, Fullmetal, you need to understand that that's not an insult, it's a _fact."_

"I said, _shut up," _Ed hissed, "Its none of your business."

"Oh?" Roy leaned back in his plastic chair, his 'Colonel smirk' in place, completely out of place in a take away shop, "I believe it becomes my business when I have to take time out of my busy schedule to negate with your headmaster to stop you from getting expelled. How long did you last in that place?"

"…70 minutes but I told you, it wasn't my fault, they star – hey! Stop laughing!"

Roy couldn't stop; he was slouched in his chair, clutching the greasy table edge for support as he shook with laughter. "You're hopeless, Fullmetal," he rasped, "What are we going to do with you?"

"Not send me back to school?"

"No," the laughter died down to a throaty chuckle, "No way. This is way to entertaining. And besides," he shot the shorter man a cocky grin, "You still haven't learnt your lesson yet."

"You still aren't over that?" Ed whined. "Come on old man, don't be cruel."

"No way, shrimp."

Biting down the sudden explosion of rage at the name, Ed choked out an angry, "Please?" When his superior failed to reply he lowered his voice even further, anger still lacing the tone, "Come on, don't make me beg. Have some mercy!"

"Mercy? Where's the fun in that?"

"Have some _humanity!"_

"Nope," Mustang grinned, popping the 'p' with lips.

Finishing off the last of his burger, Ed sighed heavily and said, "Look, I'm still pissed at you-"

"And after that stunt you pulled, I'm pissed at you."

"-but," Ed continued, completely ignoring the interruption, "I am grateful. You managed to talk to that principle guy and get Al let off of the hook and I have to respect you for that."

"Is… Is that a thank you, Fullmetal?"

Ed coughed awkwardly into his sleeve. "Err, yeah. I suppose so."

"That's definitely a-"

"Hang on!" Ed suddenly shouted, Mustang's earlier words coming back to him. He frowned deeply and pointed an accusing finger at his boss. "What do you mean 'that stunt I pulled?' _You _were in on it too! If it wasn't for you and Hughes, none of this would have happened!"

"Huh?" Roy scratched his chin distractedly, "No… no, I don't remember that."

"You did! And that alcohol you-"

"Alcohol? I distinctly remember there being no alcohol."

"So you admit you were there?" Ed said as Roy's eyes darted nervously to the door.

"Well, it was nice talking to you," Roy said quickly, leaping to his feet and starting towards the front of the little take away store they had bought lunch from. "But I really need to get back to HQ. Paperwork to sign, Generals to meet, Hawkeye to avoid, you know, grown up stuff." He paused, his hand hovering over the door's handle. "No, I suppose you wouldn't know. Would you?" Roy grinned impishly. "Oh, and nice uniform, Fullmetal."

* * *

Al was used to being stared at. After human transmutation, people had stared at him because of the armor. After he had gotten his body back, people had stared at him because he was seen with either a group of military officers or with temperamental Ed. At school he was stared at because he was popular.

Growing up, Ed often commented on Al's personality. He had said (and still often did) Al had a certain charisma about him, one that people were instantly drawn to. Al had always smiled, thanked him and continued on with whatever he was doing, never really believing a word of it. But after coming to school, he had discovered that the other students _had _seemed to be drawn to him.

'Your smart,' Ed said nonchalantly when Al told him about his sudden fame at his school. 'Much smarted than any of those brats, so you get perfect grades. Add that with your personality thing-'

'Its called charisma,' Al had corrected.

'Whatever,' Ed continued. 'It doesn't matter. But add your brains, your personaliy, charisma thingy, your good judge of character and all of your Elric genes, no wonder the kids are falling all over you.' After that, Ed had paused and shot him a knowing grin. 'And I shouldn't forget your good looks.'

'My… looks?'

'Don't play dumb with me,' Ed had said coyly. 'I see the way Winry looks at you when you're training!'

It unnerved Al at first, but after a while he, like every over time, learnt to ignore the looks and the fact that most people knew who he was ('Its _freaky,' _Al had complained to his brother. 'Do you know I have _fangirls?')_.

But this – _this _was something different. Instead of admiration, his classmates stared at him with fear and anticipation, as though they expected him to suddenly snap and attack the person closest. People took wide steps around and he found himself completely alone in a crowded hallway.

And even though he hated the admiration, he mourned its loss. Perhaps his stardom would return, perhaps one day he would be able to walk down the hall and watch people part because they generally _liked _him.

But those days were gone and Al was diluted himself if he thought they weren't.

Because before (before he lashed out, before he protected his only family member, before he had thrown all of this weight and skill into a group of school yard bullies) the school was ignorant. Al was another genius, another friend, another face among the sea of hundreds. But now – _now, _everyone knew just what he could _do. _They saw what he was capable of.

And that scared Al.

Walking down those halls, all eyes upon his retreating back, Al suddenly understood his brother's fear of teenagers.

It wasn't because he didn't understand them and didn't know how to act in a social situation (ok, it _was, _but it was something else as well). It was because they were worlds apart. Because humans (ordinary humans, ones that didn't know the entire periodic table off by heart when they were four) were such frighteningly fragile creatures that a single wrong move could break them. A single unplanned sentence about the horrors they had faced, could scare them, could scar them.

The students could see what Al could do and they were scared.

And now, so was Al.

* * *

A bit longer this time ;) cause I can.


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